Historical Occurrences
by Mandy the StoryWeaver
Summary: I awoke hearing the thrum of hoofbeats on the ground. Sand clung to my face like fairy dust, fine and warm. Reality suddenly hit me. A desert? The man with the heterochromiac eyes spoke in a commanding voice in a different language. Who was he?
1. Prologue

**Mandy: For the intents and purposes of this fanfiction, not all facts are indeed historical or true. (but some are!) I hope you enjoy my effort at creating a Red River fanfiction! Also, the year may not be exactly right. Somewhere around there.**

**Prologue**

* * *

In the year 1595 BC, the great Hittite Kingdom became more powerful with each passing moment. The pharaoh of Egypt, Horemheb, feels threatened by this new force. War between these two large empires was inevitable, although it might be for reasons that history may not remember.

But I remember. I was there, although I don't know how I got nearly 4000 years into the past. I met some very historical figures… and let's just say, the past – and the present, for that matter – will never be the same.

* * *

**Mandy: Does it sound good? I'm typing the next chapter as fast as I can! Read and tell me what you think. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just made this storyline. ^^**


	2. Sand

**Mandy: And here is the first chapter! The summary was partly taken from this, I added in a few things to the summary. Had to shorten it, y'know?**

**Ramses: This fanfiction is fictional (which is why it's called fan**_**fiction**_**) even if it has bits of history in it. Mandy owns none of us. Nor any of the information given because it was ripped off of something called "Wikipedia." Whatever that is.**

**Mandy: Please enjoy, I worked extremely hard, and even did research! Rated T+ because of suggestive themes and later violence.**

* * *

**Chapter One: Sand**

I awoke hearing the thrum of hoof beats on the ground. Sand clung to my face like fairy dust, fine and warm. I saw a horizontal line; half of what I saw was sky blue, and the other half was a fuzzy looking tan. My brain couldn't register the image before me, until I saw a hoof obstructing my view. I looked up, and I wished I hadn't.

Reality suddenly hit me. The desert sand whirled around the mysterious horsemen and me. I smelled the sweat of the horses. The men wore loincloths attached by a belt and a sword swung precariously from their hips in golden sheathes. One man with a thick gold necklace and carefully crafted belt seemed to be their leader. His heterochromiac eyes gazed down on me with a weight that told me I should be bowing to this man, not goggling at him like a buffoon.

I started, sitting up, scooting quickly away from that hoof that had pawed the sand near my face. My bag – which was made of synthetic yet worn leather – lay by my left side, and I threw it over my shoulder to keep them from stealing it. It contained whatever books I would stuff into it randomly to read, along with my notebooks and pencils. Tight, light blue jeans adorned my legs, and no matter how tight they were, I felt a small dribble of sand on my legs. I wore a white T-shirt with a black star on it, and I found that my sandals were lost (my favorite ones, too!). I was beginning to feel as if I was watching Sesame Street – "one of these things doesn't belong with the other ones…" Is it the horsemen? Or is it the stranded girl in weird clothes? If you chose the last one, you get a cookie! My mind drifted a little when I thought of cookies. Man, am I hungry… I would eat those cookies faster than the Cookie Monster. Yea, cookies…

The man with the sepia left eye and the golden right eye spoke to me in a commanding voice, snapping me out of my cookie reverie, but I didn't understand him. I had no idea what he said, he sounded Middle Eastern. Sadly, I only knew select words in Japanese and some in Spanish, but it was obvious that this was neither. With no way to speak to him, I just stared up at him and tried to look harmless. They're less likely to kill me than if I became a threat… right?

His horse snorted, and he leapt off, landing near my feet. The first thing I noticed was the sword swinging from his belt. It was longer than the other soldiers', with jewels encrusted in the hilt and sheathe. I scuttled away from him a bit, staring at the weapon with wide eyes. He saw this, laughing. The sound rolled out of his mouth like sweet chocolate – you wanted to eat it_ now,_ but you knew it was going to make you sick to your stomach _later_. His blonde hair contrasted to his darkened, sun-bathed skin beautifully – I mean, handsomely (usually guys don't like to be called beautiful; it's a girly word).

I took his laugh to be a sign that he wasn't going to kill me. I sighed, relieved. He began to speak again, walking to my right side. I sat cross-legged, watching him carefully as he bent his knees, standing on the balls of his feet to see me face-to-face. I tried to look like I understood, but it was hard. After all, these people might just take me home to their house and rape me, one at a time. Before you believe in the best in people, you believe the worst.

I think he saw through my act. He had probably asked a question, but I couldn't respond to it because I didn't know what he'd asked. There was something like concern in his expression, along with sympathy, but who knew? He could just as easily be feigning his emotions just as I was.

All of the horsemen paid close attention to the two of us. They were either his bodyguards, or soldiers, or something. I didn't like how strangely they looked at me.

Their leader leaned into me, his face inches from mine. I blinked, unable to stop from gaping at him, eyes wide, feeling as if I couldn't move. He closed the gap, kissing me, which confused the hell out of me. The next thing I knew, I raised my right hand and smacked him open-handed. My temper grew like a pot of water over a fire, until it was scalding hot and spilling over the edge.

"What the hell was that for? Why don't you kiss a girl who's willing, you–" I shouted at him impetuously, and then stopped because of the soldiers' murmurs.

"She should be counted lucky that we don't just leave her here!" One of them murmured to another.

"She should thank our general's kind heart, to pick up such a pale and frailly made girl!" Another said.

"At least she's voluminous." This comment from one of the men made all the rest of them laugh, and made my face flush red. 'Voluminous?'

"Wait – how is it that I can understand all of you now?" I asked, looking at them all incredulously.

"The kiss was a spell," Their leader, who was rubbing his bright red left cheek (the one on his face!), said, "It was obvious that you didn't understand me."

I gave him "the look," the one that all women can recreate easily. "Really?"

"No," He said, standing up. He grinned at me, seeing the obvious temper. "Would you believe me if I told you that your lips looked parched, and I was only trying to moisten them?"

"No," I said, scrambling to stand up. I stood in front of him, face-to-face – well, in this case, face-to-chest, since he was taller – pointing a finger at him. "Who are you to be rude to a girl so obviously lost?"

"I am User Ramses, General of the Lord of the Two Lands, and the Vizier of His Highness of Egypt, Horemheb," He pronounced grandly, smirking. My jaw dropped. 'Ramses? _The_ Ramses, who becomes the first of twelve Ramses after him as pharaoh?' "From the look on your face, you know who I am."

"Uh-huh…" I nodded nonchalantly, digging through my bag. "A-ha! My R-T encyclopedia!" 'Why do I have only this one? Oh, well.' I flipped through it as everyone watched, curious. I read the entry to myself, scanning over parts when needed:

"Ramesses I (traditional English: Ramses)

Royal name: Menpehtyre (Eternal Strength of Ra)

Nomen (personal) name: Ramesses (Born of Ra)

Originally Paramessu, Ramesses was born into a noble military family… He was found in favor with Horemheb, last pharaoh of the tumultuous 18th dynasty, and who appointed the former as his Vizier…"

I couldn't reference that word – because the R-T encyclopedia was the only one I had. I think it meant Horemheb's right hand man or something. I continued reading:

"Horemheb was childless, naming Ramesses as his heir in the final years of his reign, being an able administrator and having a son (Seti I) and a grandson (future Ramesses II) to succeed him, thus avoiding succession difficulties. Ramesses I enjoyed a brief reign of 17 months, and had little time to build any major buildings. He was buried hurriedly in a small and hastily built tomb. His son, Seti I, succeeded him.

"His mummy was stolen by the Abu-Rassul family of grave robbers and brought to America around 1860 by Dr. James Douglas. It remained in the Niagara Museum and Daredevil Hall of Fame in Ontario, Canada, the identity unknown for about 130 years. The museum owner sold his property and all of its contents away. In 1999, various Egyptian artifacts from the museum, along with Ramesses's mummy, were sold to another museum in Atlanta, Georgia for US $2 million. It is still not known, but the mummy's arms are crossed in the meaning of royalty, and it was returned to Egypt in 2003 with full official honors. It is now displayed at the Luxor Museum."

Next to the entry was a picture of Ramses's mummy in the Luxor Museum. I blinked at the picture, and then up at the man with the heterochromiac eyes. I couldn't connect the two at all, even though they were obviously the same person. I closed the encyclopedia with a clap, which startled the soldiers, and I put it away. Without even realizing it, I gazed at Ramses, feeling amazed.

"Wow, for a really good strategist, you're a pervert." I said, turning to trudge past the horsemen. I didn't know where I was going, but I'll be damned if I mess up my time for interacting with something so ancient. Getting back home was in my best interest.

I heard the horsemen follow me, with Ramses riding up next to me. He grabbed my arm, pulling me up behind him on his horse. Taken by surprise, I held onto him, giving a small squeak, afraid of falling off. Ramses laughed, which was a sound that vibrated through his chest into me. I was holding onto his smooth and contoured chest… 'Mind out of the gutter, mind out of the gutter!' I screamed mentally at myself.

"For one so bold, you seem too delicate for long walks in the desert," Ramses said, a smile lightening the features of his face, "Allow us to take you to where you are going, woman."

If I remembered my Ancient History correctly (which I probably didn't), there was supposed to be a High Priest in Egypt's capital who practiced magic. He might be able to help me back to my own time. Although this was messing with the timeline, I needed help getting to the Capital, and Ramses seemed happy to do so. I might as well use what's given to me.

"I need to get to the Capital." I said, hoping I didn't sound too demanding.

"Exactly where we were going, right, men?" The other men shouted their agreements to their general's question. We rode on at a jogging pace. "Do you mind if I ask your name, so I can stop calling you 'woman'?"

'Uh-oh…' I hadn't thought of a name that sounded somewhat ancient. Okay, think Greek mythology… Hebe, the cupbearer? No. Iris, goddess of the rainbow? Hell no. Nothing too colorful; nothing too bland. "Hestia," I said impetuously. It sounded nice, since it was the goddess of the hearth. I hoped it didn't sound too irregular.

"Hestia. Your parents must wish you to have a good family and a good home." Ramses was trying to make small talk, and I was glad of it. Silence would make my mind – or maybe my hands – wander where I didn't want it to.

"Yes. My parents wish a lot of things." I said, thinking on it. Right now, they were probably wishing I was home…

"It sounds like they're trying to marry you off to someone." He glanced back at me, grinning, trying to joke. It wasn't funny.

"My parents would never 'marry me off' to a strange, rich man. Our family thinks women have just as much independency as men do." I said stubbornly. 'All of the people in my era (where I live, anyways) feel the same, too.'

Ramses speculated the look on my face momentarily, and then faced forward. "I think they're right, too." I leaned over, trying to get a look at his face. He looked solemn, with a little of something else I couldn't describe. His eyes seemed to sparkle when he turned his head. "What?"

"I hope you become pharaoh some day." I said, knowing that this hope wasn't impossible. I knew he would become pharaoh, but not until much later in his life. I returned to my proper seating, waiting for us to arrive at the Capital, the scorching winds blowing sand through my hair.

* * *

**Mandy: So? Any good? This is probably the longest 1****st**** chapter of any story I have ever written. Seriously, that's scary.**

**Hestia: Don't I have a real name?**

**Mandy: Nope. Not one that you'd reveal to Ramses, anyways. -laughs evilly-**

**Feed a writer – leave a review! This story made me hungry for cookies…**

_Edited/Updated 4/16/11_**  
**


End file.
